


Behind Closed Doors

by yeska_noka



Category: Kansai Johnny's Jr.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-04
Updated: 2011-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:28:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26576017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeska_noka/pseuds/yeska_noka
Summary: Matori finds Kusumoto in a somewhat compromising position. Kusumoto does not mind.
Relationships: Hayashi Matori/Kusumoto Yukito
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	Behind Closed Doors

**Author's Note:**

> Found this in my files, so here's some unpublished (as far as I can tell) fic from nearly a decade ago.

When Matori goes looking for Kusumoto, he finds him exactly where he’d expected to, so that’s no surprise. What _is_ a surprise is the way Kusumoto’s sitting with his eyes closed, hand moving slowly up and down his cock. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t seem to have noticed Matori’s appearance, and Matori just stares, wondering if he’s dreaming. Certainly a large percentage of his dreams lately follow along lines like these. 

He’s not dreaming though, he knows that, and also knows that he should turn around and leave, but he can’t bring himself to move. Kusumoto looks gorgeous, head tilted back to expose his neck and Matori wants more than anything to touch him, to leave his mark on his skin. He’s still staring when Kusumoto opens his eyes. 

“ _Matori_ ,” he breathes, and that’s what snaps Matori out of it.

He spins around, horrified to have been caught staring. What the hell is _wrong_ with him? He should have turned around and left immediately!

“I-I’m sorry,” he manages, “Excuse me.” 

A hand on his wrist stops him before he can turn the doorknob. 

“Stay,” Kusumoto whispers, and Matori can feel the brush of it against his ear. His legs go weak. 

“Yukito...”

A hand reaches past him to lock the door, and when Matori tries to turn around, he’s pressed up against it, Kusumoto’s eyes dark and black and way too close for Matori to think. 

“You know,” Kusumoto says, and Matori can’t breathe. “I’ve been waiting for you to make a move. But you never do.”

Matori struggles to answer. “Because y-you’re-”

“If you say I’m too young, I’ll bite your dick off,” Kusumoto says, eyes flashing. 

That does nothing to help Matori’s situation, his already-hard cock getting harder at the thought of just being in Kusumoto’s mouth enough for him to even do that. He can’t think of a response before his mouth is otherwise occupied, Kusumoto kissing him hard enough that his head knocks back against the door. 

“Yukito,” Matori tries to say, but it gets lost, muffled somewhere between their mouths, and any sense of propriety Matori may have head gets lost with it. He gets his hands up into Kusumoto’s hair, pulling him closer and kissing him like he’s always dreamed about. He shoves his tongue into Kusumoto’s mouth, takes what he wants, and Kusumoto just groans and presses up against him, reminding Matori of how this all started. Matori reaches for him. 

“Let me touch you,” he growls, nipping at Kusumoto’s lower lip, but Kusumoto grabs his wrist again and stops him. 

“No,” he says, and pushes Matori toward the chair where he’d been sitting earlier. “There’s something else I want.”

Matori lets himself be pushed down into the chair, his own motor skills a little questionable in his arousal. Kusumoto kneels before him and already has his hands on Matori’s belt before Matori can dredge up the willpower to stop him. 

“Wait, Yukito...”

“No.” Kusumoto shreds through any remains of Matori’s dignity, unbuckling his belt and getting clothing out of the way as Matori shivers beneath his touch. “You know,” Kusumoto says as he wraps a hand around Matori’s cock, “I have this dildo at home.”

Just the idea has Matori groaning, squeezing his eyes shut as if that could block out the mental images. 

“I don’t use it for anything like _that_ ,” Kusumoto continues, and he sounds amused, but when Matori wrenches his eyes back open, Kusumoto is watching him carefully. “But sometimes I suck on it,” he says. “When I’m touching myself. I think about having your dick in my mouth.” 

Matori can’t keep from pushing up into his hand. “Fuck, _Yukito_.”

“Let me try,” Kusumoto demands, and it’s all Matori can do to hold on as Kusumoto leans down and licks at him. He clutches at Kusumoto’s hair, shaking with the effort to keep from thrusting up into his mouth. 

“Tastes a bit weird,” Kusumoto says after licking straight up his length, “but it feels so much better.” 

Matori can’t even say anything to that. He grits his teeth as Kusumoto takes him in; the wet heat of it is brilliant, but the fact that it’s Kusumoto, that’s he been wanting this _forever_ , has Matori close to the edge much faster than he would have liked. 

“Yukito,” he tries. “Yukito, I’m...”

Kusumoto hums in understanding and lets Matori fall from his lips. “Okay,” he says, and then leans his chin on Matori’s thigh, clearly intending to watch him. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Matori says, and he barely needs to touch himself before he’s coming over his own fingers, Kusumoto’s gaze burning hot on his skin. 

“ _Yeah_ ,” Kusumoto echoes, and then he’s crawling up onto Matori’s lap and kissing him. Matori is still shivering from his orgasm, the weight of Kusumoto pressing down on him too distracting to work the kiss right, but it doesn’t seem to bother Kusumoto any. He moans against Matori’s lips and tugs at his shirt. Matori’s brain is still too hazy for him to protest as Kusumoto pushes his clothing up, but then Kusumoto is fisting himself, the head of his cock rubbing across Matori’s stomach, and Matori’s cock twitches in sympathy as Kusumoto spends himself across Matori’s skin. 

“Matori,” Kusumoto says a minute later, his head resting on Matori’s shoulder, breath tickling his neck. 

“Hm?” Matori is trying very hard to just enjoy the feel of Kusumoto curled up against him and not think about anything else at all. He loves his job, but fuck work at the moment. No one is likely to care if he’s a few minutes late back from lunch anyway. 

“Come home with me later?”

Matori often goes home with Kusumoto, but the words have a whole new meaning to them now. 

“Are you sure?” he asks, leaning back a little so that he can look at Kusumoto.

Kusumoto smiles. “Definitely. Besides,” he adds, smirking. “It’s only fair that you get to taste me, too.”

Kusumoto is definitely not good for his health, Matori thinks. “ _Nngh_.”


End file.
